Judge The Moth By The Beauty Of

I Grow Silent. Dear Soul, You Speak.

Love Came.... And Became Like Blood In My Body. It Rushed Through My Veins And Encircled My Heart. Everywhere I Looked, I Saw One Thing.... Love's Name Written On My Limbs, On My Left Palm, On My Forehead, On The Back Of My Neck, On My Right Big Toe... Oh, My Friend, All That You See Of Me Is Just A Shell, And The Rest Belongs To Love.

To Become Spiritual, You Must Die To Self, And Come Alive In The Lord. Only Then Will The Mysteries Of God Fall From Your Lips. To Die To Self Through Self-discipline Causes Suffering But Brings You Everlasting Life.

Love Is Fearless In The Midst Of The Sea Of Fear.

Whatever Posessions And Objects Of Its Desires The Lower Self May Obtain, It Hangs On To Them, Refusing To Let Them Go Out Of Greed For More, Or Out Of Fear Of Poverty And Need.